Red Bamboo: A Short Fan-Fic
by Camdigidy
Summary: A desperate man is on an espionage mission for a mysterious organization that is able to cure his terminally ill daughter.


In 1966, a terrorist organization called the Red Bamboo operated a nuclear weapons factory on an island in the South Pacific.

Both the facility and the kaiju the Red Bamboo controlled were destroyed by Godzilla.

The organization dissolved shortly afterwards. Rumor of their continued operations are the subject of internet conspiracy theorists, and no real evidence of their present day existence has ever come to light…

*

The sounds of beeps and boops fill the room along with computer fans and magnetic tapes playing.

The room is filled with old computers. Buttons, lights, and tape reels cover the walls.

A man in a white collared shirt and glasses wanders into the room. He walks up to the many controls and inspects them. He then looks around the room to make sure he is alone before he pulls out his phone. The screen illuminates his face as he swipes and taps. He looks anxious as he runs his fingers through his hair. His hand trembles as he lifts his phone to his ear.

"Hey. I'm in… now let me talk to my daughter…"

The man paces the room as he continues to run his fingers through his hair.

"H- Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?... Oh, baby. I'm sorry. But don't worry, the doctors there will make you all better real soon. Trust me, sweetie."

The man smiles as he hears the voice of his little girl over the phone.

"Hey, how about as soon as I get back, we-," the man's smile vanishes. "Put my daughter back on…"

He breathes heavily and messes with his hair again as he listens to the person on the phone.

"Fine... And I have your word that you can cure her?"

He listens intently.

"All right. I'll call you when I'm done."

He ends the call and looks at his phone longingly. He puts it back into his pocket. He fumbles around in his pocket and pulls something else out. It is a small odd looking metallic device; a little metal box with a few lights on it.

Behind him in the bright doorway stands a tall masculine figure.

"Mr. Vincent Adams," the silhouetted figure says.

Vincent spins around startled as he quickly puts the metal device back in his pocket.

The masculine figure steps forward. The large man is dressed in formal US Air Force attire. Four silver stars sit with his many badges; a general.

"I'm sorry if I startled you!" the general laughs.

"I-it's all right," Vincent says nervously. "I shouldn't have wandered off and gotten lost."

"Well, no worries. There's no hiding from us." The general extends his hand. "General Ford."

Vincent takes the general's hand and shakes it.

"We're happy to have you and invite you to do your worst!" the general says.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find everything up to regulation," Vincent replies with an uneasy smile.

"Just follow me and we can start in the offices," the general starts to move around.

"A-a-actually, general, I'd like to get the hanger out if the way first, if that's all right?"

The general turns back to Vincent with a cocked brow.

"Hanger? Hanger wasn't in the email I got."

"It w-was in mine." Vincent looks down at his clipboard. "If nothing else, I need a report for the hanger."

The general looks annoyed at Vincent.

"Okay! Hanger it is."

The metal catwalk runs far down the dark hanger until it disappears into blackness.

Two pairs of feet walk down the catwalk. The general leads Vincent.

"We feared that copying the original would be too controversial," The general explains. But the one built in the 70's was built so effectively, we couldn't improve on it much. So with a few minor alterations, and an American flag on it, it should be received well."

As the general lead Vincent, Vincent looks up to the left and right of the catwalk. In the reflection of his glasses is dimly lit metallic monster.

"Is a weapon of such power really needed by anyone?" Vincent asks.

"Would you rather us scrap the project and wait for someone else to build one?" the general snaps. "We don't plan on launching anytime, willy nilly. But we can't count on the Big Guy all the time."

Vincent stops. He turns and looks up at the metallic thing.

"Does anyone do maintenance in the head?" Vincent asks.

The general looks at Vincent puzzled, then up at the thing.

"Occasionally, yes."

"Then I'll- I'll- I'll have to see it."

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Adams, but much of what's inside there is top secret property of the US Air Force."

Vincent sighs and rubs his temples.

"I was... told by the head of my department head, real hard ass, mind you, that I need this for the report. I'm guessing someone dropped the ball in informing you about the details of the examination, but if I return with an unfinished report, I'm liable to lose my job!"

"I understand, but if I wasn't informed prior-"

"We can call my department head and waste an hour or two before he tells you exactly what I'm telling you, or we can hop in, hop out, and go home…"

The general sighs, irritated.

Vincent grips at the railing of the catwalk nervously.

"You have kids, general?" Vincent asks.

"I do. Daughter. Graduating from West Point next spring."

Vincent smiles.

"My little girl… she's been real sick. She's fighting real hard right now."

Vincent holds back his emotions.

"You know how precious an extra hour or two with them is…"

Vincent looks over to the general. The general smiles.

The room is dark. Powerful fans blow loudly. The room is illuminated when a submarine hatch door opens. It squeezes and creeks open with a metallic clank. Fluorescent lights flicker on. Many messy wires flow down the walls.

"These walls will have panels over them soon," the general informs.

"Agh," Vincent pulls at his collar. "Pretty warm in here," he speaks over the fans.

"This houses the CPU," the general says coming up behind Vincent.

"The brain…"

"If you want to call it that."

The two step through the hallway of wires and into a room that contains computers similar to ones Vincent was looking at before the general found him. There were hundreds of lights, switches, and reels of spinning tape.

Two huge, yellow tinted, peculiarly shaped windows peer into the room.

Vincent's eyes dart around nervously.

"Have there been any fires?" Vincent asks.

"No. None. Everything is well ventilated. Built in fire control just in case," the general responds.

"And wh- where is the CPU, exactly?"

"CPU interface is behind that panel," the general points.

Vincent turns to the panel the general is pointing at. He takes hold of the latch and pauses as he looks slightly shocked and amazed. He places his hand against the metal panel.

There are heartbeats. Vincent feels and hears what sounds like a heart beating, but the arteries are filled with mashing gears and clock parts.

"A little scary, ain't it?" the general says. "You might think it's alive."

Vincent nods. He then twists a latch, and opens it to see a computer screen and keyboard.

"It's amazing you were able to reverse engineer all this," Vincent says.

"Took a long time for engineers figure it out," the general says just as his phone rings. "Pardon me."

The general turns around and looks out the peculiar window as he puts the phone to his ear.

"General Ford," the general answers the phone.

As the general listens to the person on the other end of the line, Vincent watches him intently. He slowly reaches into his pocket as his eyes remain fixed on the general.

"What do you mean?" the general asks the person on the phone.

Vincent pulls out the strange little metallic device from his pocket and places it on the side of the computer monitor. It attaches with a clank. Vincent looks horrified at the general thinking he may have heard the noise. He quickly pulls his hand out of the access area.

The general is still on his phone.

"Thank you for informing me…" the general concluded his call. He slowly pulls the phone away from his ear, then looks at Vincent worryingly.

At this point, both men are a little sweaty from the heat. Little beads of sweat form on each man's forehead and the armpits of their shirts are damp.

"I-Is everything a- all right?" Vincent asks as he tries his best to look calm.

"Yes… everything's fine," the general tells Vincent while still staring at him.

"Ev-Every- Everything looks f-fine. W-w-we can get out of here."

"Sure, Mr. Adams… Pardon me for just one more second. I need to send a quick text to my daughter…"

The general looks down at his phone and types.

Vincent slowly lifts his hand and cautiously reaches into the access terminal again. He looks back over that the general who is still typing. He gives the little metallic device a few taps and a few lights come on.

Vincent hastily closes the access hatch.

"You good?!" the general asks loudly.

Vincent jumps. He nervously smiles.

"Y-y-yeah!" Vincent shrugs.

Vincent leads the way down the steps back onto the catwalk of the dark hanger. His eyes are wide in fear as the general walks behind him.

"What do you need to see next… Mr. Adams," the general asks.

"Oh… um, j-jus-just your maintenance department and research offices," Vincent answers as his eyes dart around.

"Sure thing, Mr. Adams!"

The two step onto the metal catwalk.

"Mr. Adams," the general speaks up. "I heard something very funny when speaking with one my men over the phone a second ago…"

Vincent continues walking along the catwalk.

"He informed me that the man who was supposed to come for the inspection…"

Vincent is shaking as he walks.

The general reaches into his jacket.

"... Was found dead in a river not far from his home," the general says. He pulls out a small pistol.

Vincent freezes as he has a vice grip on the railing of the catwalk.

"So you tell me again… Mr. Adams…" the general points the gun at Vincent. "Who the hell are you?"

The man that went by Vincent does not reply. He hangs his head and stairs at the catwalk.

"My men are on their way," the general tells Vincent. "Just tell me why you're here. Who are you with?"

Vincent falls to his knees with his head still down.

"That's fine. You'll talk. You're under arrest. Don't make it difficult."

Vincent lowers his head to the steel catwalk.

"Th-th-th…" Vincent tries to get out.

"Grow a spine, man, and speak up!" the general yells.

"Th- They have! M-my! D-daughter!" Vincent begins to cry.

The general looks down at Vincent pitifully. "Yeah? We'll take care of that, then."

A deafening metallic screech echoes through the darkness. The general jumps in surprise and aims his gun into the blackness.

"What in the-" the general says, but abruptly stops when he hears the sound of footsteps coming from down the long catwalk.

"Who goes there?!" the general calls out.

The steps keep coming closer as a brisk and steady pace.

"Address yourself!"

Into the light shining from above steps a very old Japanese man in his 80's. He wears a very official looking military style uniform, but he belongs to no national military. His uniform is beige. He has an eye patch with a golden dragon.

"General Ford," the old man greets. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Admiral Ryuui." He introduces himself courteously. He smiles and comes off as a friendly grandpa.

Admiral Ryuui turns to the weapon shrouded in shadow.

"I must thank you for re-creating such a magnificent weapon!"

Ryuui faces General Ford.

"Our benefactors will much appreciate it." Ryuui says. He sees Vincent down on the catwalk.

"You can come with us… Mr. Adams," Ryuui says as he winks. "Congratulations, you've saved your daughter!

Vincent slowly picks himself up and shambles over behind Ryuui.

"Now what in the hell!" the general exclaims. "Guards!"

"Your men won't come, general. Save your breath." Ryuui informs. He then picks up a radio on his belt. "Unit 3, wake up!"

With the command, two bright yellow eyes shine through the darkness.

"Open this bay door," Kyuui commands.

The huge circular door overhead slides apart. Daylight shines in to reveal Mechagodzilla. The bionic monster screeches.

Kyuui salutes Mechagodzilla by placing his flat hand perpendicular to his chest.

Mechagodzilla mimics the salute and screeches again.

The general looks up at Mechagodzilla in horror, then back at Ryuui.

"What is this?" the general asks.

Ryuui smiles at the general.

"Oh! I nearly forgot." Kyuui reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He steps over to the general and hands it to him.

The general, still nervously pointing his gun, glances at the paper before taking it.

"You'll deliver our message to your commander in chief… won't you…"

The general opens the paper. On it is a gold and red emblem in a spade shape.

"All they need to know is…" Kyuui chuckles, "We're back." He laughs joyfully.

The general lowers his gun. His shoulders sag.

"You know… HE'LL show up," the general smirks. "He always does."

"And we," Kyuui claps his hands together, "will be looking forward to it! Take care, general."

With that, Admiral Kyuui walks off down the long catwalk as Vincent follows. General Ford stands alone helplessly.

Another circular bay door open in the ceiling. Then another, and another, and another. The hanger in enormous

The flooding light reveals rows of Mechagodzillas on each side of the catwalk. More and more mechanical monstrosities are revealed. Each of the Mechagodzillas' eyes light up. They make the same salute as Admiral Kyuui passes by them.

Vincent looks back and forth in awe as each Mechagodzilla activates one by one.

There is an army.

"I think it's time," Admiral Kyuui chuckles, "to put the monster to the metal!"

The army of Mechagodzillas screech in a chaotic symphony.

Red Bamboo: A Short Fan-Fic

End.


End file.
